The Truth is out There...and It Hurts!
by lamar-k2
Summary: David finds an old book in the attic with Race and Jack, and reading it has suddenly made it so anyone who encounters them HAS to tell the truth! Things could get...interesting. Not as bad as it sounds. Please R&R!
1. Awakened

Okay, so here's the first chapter. If I get enough review's I'll post the second, which is where most of the action happens.  
  
Disclaimer: I borrowed the book of Shadows and the Spell from Charmed, but don't worry, I'm returning it!  
  
The Truth is Out there....and it hurts!  
  
Chapter One  
  
****  
  
  
  
"Oh MAN!" Jack Kelley groaned as he entered the small attic with two of his best friends, David Jacobs and Racetrack Higgins. "There sure is a lotta dust in this old room!"  
  
"No duh genius, that's why it's called an attic," Racetrack smirked.  
  
"So what exactly are we doing in here?" David inquired, pushing some cobwebs out of his way.  
  
"Lookin'," Race said.  
  
"For what?" David asked.  
  
"Oh yeah, you wasn't here, was ya?" Racetrack said. "Well, it's ol' Kloppy's birthday on Sunday and we'se was thinkin' he might have some kind of address book so we'se can invite alla his friends," He explained.  
  
"In the attic?" David asked.  
  
"Well we already looked in all the obvious places," Jack snapped. "Now just shut up and help"  
  
David shrugged and went to work, pushing past old piles of dust and cobwebs, looking through boxes and chests of treasures. He opened one particularly old chest and was surprised to see it was nearly empty, except for a big, leather-bound book. He picked it up and wiped off the dust, reading the inscriptions.  
  
"The Book of Shadows," he read. "Hey guys, look at this!" But Racetrack and Jack were deep in conversation about the new Distribution Manager, Mr. Adams.  
  
"So I guess you didn't talk to him about lyin' to us, right?" Race asked Jack.  
  
"Of course I did, just like I said I would," Jack replied. "Hey, Am I getting a zit on my chin?"  
  
"Can't even see it," Racetrack assured him.  
  
David turned back to the book and nearly had a heart attack as the old, rusty pages began to turn by themselves. Finally, they stopped.  
  
"The Truth Spell?" David read, hardly believing what he saw. "What the hell is this?" he looked at the ancient writing, and began to read it  
  
"For those who want the truth revealed, open hearts and secrets unsealed, from now until it's now again, after which the memories end." he paused, as a small gust of wind was felt around him. The hair on his arms was standing up straight and goose bumps were appearing, but something pressed him to keep reading.  
  
"Those who now are in this house, will hear the truth from others mouths." He finished, and waited. But nothing happened, no gusts of winds, no crashing pictures...David shrugged and placed the book back in the chest, turning back to Jack and Race.  
  
"So you really can't see it?" Jack asked, fingering the zit on his chin.  
  
"Are you kidding? It looks like that thing has a life of its own. So you really told off Mr. Adams, huh?" Racetrack queried.  
  
"No, I lied. I chickened out." Jack shrugged. They stared at each other, their words sinking in.  
  
"What do you mean it has a life of its own?!" Jack shouted, standing up.  
  
"What do YOU mean, you chickened out?!" Race retaliated. "We were counting on you!"  
  
"Um...guys?" David said tentatively.  
  
"He's a huge guy!" Jack said. "I'm a 17 year old Newsie, for god's sake! What am I supposed to do? Stand on a pile of a crates and box him?!"  
  
"Guys?" David asked again, louder.  
  
"You could of!" Racetrack shouted back. "It would be better than lying!"  
  
"GUYS!" David shouted, and the two furious newsies glared at him.  
  
"What?!" they shouted at the same time.  
  
"Something weird is happening, we all need to calm down," David said. "I'm sure either of you didn't mean it,"  
  
"Yes I did," They said at the same time.  
  
"Oh here we go again," David sighed as they began yelling. "SHUT UP!" He shouted as loudly as he could. "Now Listen both of you! I don't know what the hell's the matter with either one of you piles of trash, but just stop it! My head is pounding, I should be in goddamn school but I sluffed, and you two aren't helping!"  
  
"You're supposed to be in school?" Jack asked, his eyes wide.  
  
"We are not piles of trash!" Race said haughtily.  
  
"Did I just say what I think I said?" David gasped.  
  
"Yes," Jack said, a smile forming on his lips. "You really cut class!"  
  
David turned and looked back at the box. "Something REALLY weird is going on here..." 


	2. Explanations

Here's the Next Chappie, it's a bit on the boring side, but it explains most everything. Enjoy and don't forget to R&R! cheezy grins

Countdown to the End of the Truth Spell: 23 Hrs 40 Mins. 

While Race and Jack verbally duked it out, David sighed, defeated, and went back to the old box where he found the book and grabbed it out, sitting down and turning it back to the "Truth Spell" 

"A spell to seek the truth." he read. "Well that's damn helpful." He turned the page. "From dusk to dusk everyone placed upon this spell will encounter the truth they desire." He paused. "So, whoever i talk to has to tell me the truth?" he asked out loud, then kept reading. "The spell is irreversible until the 24 Time limit is up. 

David was frustrated to see that was the end, but stood up and decided to give it a try. 

"Hey, Race! What's your real name?" 

"Anthony Mario Higgins," Race replied automatically. "Hey wait!" 

"And Jack? What did your dad do that landed him in jail?" David asked. 

"Shot someone," Jack said. "I mean–"

"So that's how it works...." 

"That's how WHAT works, Dave?" Jack asked. "I didn't mean to tell you that!" 

"Okay, well this is going to sound really weird....but...I think i cast a truth spell." David replied, looking seriously at the two newsies and drawing the book close to him. 

"A WHAT?!" Jack and Race shouted at the same time. 

"YOU CAST IT?!"

"A 'SPELL?!" 

"ARE YOU CRAZY!" 

"No, because apparently it worked," David said. "I mean, Jack you just told me your deepest darkest secret and Race just told me his real name." 

"Oh." Was all Jack said. 

"I can't believe it!" Race moaned. "David, what have you done?" 

"Hey how did i know it was real?!" David cried. "I just read it...and then it happened! Besides, look who's talking little Mr. Hit-Wood-for-Good-Luck-sleep-with-lavendar-oil-on-the-pillow! " 

"That's different," Race said hastily. "That's just superstition...this is...real deep, man!" 

"Okay Wait...we just have to, we have to undo it RIGHT now!" Jack said. 

"Can't," David said promptly. "According to the book, there's a twenty-four hour time limit. Which means until Five o'clock tomorrow night, everybody that comes in contact with us will have no choice but to tell the truth." 

"What do you mean 'no choice'?!" Race sputtered out angrily. 

"Exactly that. Ask me a question." 

"I'm game," Jack shrugged. "David, what do you think of me?" 

"Well, I admire your confidence and your fearlessness, but your utter lack of responsibility frustrates me to no end. Oh God, that is enough." David cringed. 

**"**Oh shit, this could be very dangerous." Jack moaned. 

"I'm kinda likin' it," Race shrugged. "Jack, what do you _really_ think of Mr. Adams?" 

"I think he's a self serving jerk who must have a very small penis." Jack replied immediately. "Did i just say that? He's going to beat me alive!" 

"No, no, no," David said. "According to the book, it's okay because once the spell ends, no one will remember what they've heard." 

"According to the book?!" Jack shouted. "Screw the book! The book got us into this in the first place!" 

"Okay look, this isn't a big deal. We just need to, we need to lock the doors, call in sick, and stay in our own bunks until it goes away," Race said. 

**"**Hello, some of us have a family," David snapped. 

"Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute." Jack interrupted. "I just had an...an apostrophe," 

"Epiphany," David corrected. 

"Yeah, that. So you're telling me that everyone I ask a question to has to answer with the truth." 

"Think so, yes. But that also means if we get asked a question, we have to answer the truth." David said. 

"Can work around that. This is cool. Very cool." Jack grinned, heading down the attic stairs. 

"Jack, no, where are you going?" David shouted. 

Then he noticed Race glaring at him. "Don't even think about asking me what I think of you right now, David……"

**** 

How did you guys like it? I know it's a bit boring right now, but we have to have explanations! LoL please R&R! (you know you want to!) 


	3. Authors Notes! dont bother to read

Here's some Info just for you pretty people!

Next chapter is "A Talk with the owner of the World" Heh, sort of a play on words, if you couldn't tell. This will be super funny, as well as dramatic, I promise. It's from Jack's POV. 

After that is "She's a Maniac…a Maniac...she's lyin' Maniac..." From Davey's POV. 

And after THAT it's "Bending a Lie" from Race's POV. 

Then, we get a surprise encounter from someone who was in the LH when Davey cast the spell and was effected….well, you'll just have to see. 

Also, I was thinking of making this kind of a series, with different strange things happening like this. Sort of a Newsies/Charmed Crossover. What do you think? Feedback peoples! Thanks! Thanks and See ya! 


	4. AN Again dont bother to read

Okay peoples READ THIS!  
  
I am now taking suggestions for what to do with this fic! I already have the next 4. Chapters planned, but after that, who do you want the newsies to run into?  
  
So far I have 1)Pulitzer 2)Some girl that's not in the original story but she's super funny and cool 3)This one Adoption place where Race was left as a kid.  
  
So please guys, email me at and lemme know what i should do! Thanks!  
  
*Rachel* 


	5. A talk with the owner of the world

"I needs to speak ta Mr. Pulitzah. NOW."  
  
Jerry Jacobson looked up at the angry, 17-year-old boy standing in front of him and couldn't help but admire the boy. He was Jack Kelley, the famous Newsie strike leader. The one that dared to challenge Pulitzer and Hearst in their moment of glory. The one who turned their moment of glory to their moment of weakness.  
  
"It's nice to see you too, kid," Jerry grunted, putting on a scowl. He had to. He worked for Pulitzer.  
  
"Look, don' start wit me. I need to speak wit Pulitzah," Jack checked the clock nervously. It was 5: 55...that meant he had... wait? How many hours? He tried to remember what Davey had said, and although he had only heard it minutes ago, it was a blur. Something more, something important now occupied his mind.  
  
"Look, kid, I really can't let you see him," Jerry said earnestly, trying to convince Jack to leave. "I could loose my job."  
  
"What's da real reason, Jer?" Jack replied, giving him an exasperated look.  
  
"I'm afraid if I let you in, Pulitzer will get angry and take the blame on me," he said monotonously. "I've got a wife, and three kids. I can't afford to loose my job."  
  
"Well it's nice to see that some people in this world is still honest," Jack sighed. "But look, I promise he won't get mad...or fire you. You'se jus' gotta trust me, please?"  
  
Jerry looked up at the boy, and had to relent at his pleads. A year ago he would have laughed at the boy and thrown him out. But now..there was something, something nagging at him inside that just said to let him in. It was like he had no will of his own. "Alright...but don't go startin' up trouble, you hear? I don't want no trouble..."  
  
"I promise," Jack said, saluting and heading up the grand stairs. It was a long trip, up those stairs, but as he let him self in Pulitzer's main office, it seemed to be all worth it.  
  
"How did you get in here?" Pulitzer asked, shocked, standing up.  
  
"Had ta practically bribe Jerry," Jack replied automatically. "But that's not important. I want a word," Jack strolled lazily over to a statue of an angel on a table and picked it up, tossing it from hand to hand.  
  
"Don't touch that!" Pulitzer shouted, angrily striding over to Jack.  
  
"Why?" Jack challenged, as he gave it another fling. "You'se afraid my dirty hands might stain it?"  
  
"It was my love's....my darling Marrianne's..." Pulitzer replied, in the same monotonous voice Jerry had used earlier. He glared at Jack, as If daring him to try anything else.  
  
"Who was Marrianne?" Jack asked him, tauntingly throwing it in the air and letting it fall quite far before catching it.  
  
"Your mother."  
  
Jack really did drop the statue, his eyes wide. Pulitzer gasped, clasping a hand over his own mouth.  
  
"MY MOTHER?!" Jack shouted.  
  
"I didn't just say that!" Pulitzer assured him.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING WITH MY MOTHER?!" Jack shouted at him, going into a rage and charging at the old man.  
  
"Jack! Jack! Stop it!" Pulitzer hissed, shoving Jack away from him and standing up angrily. "I'll have you thrown in jail before you can blink! You're not so young anymore, I'm not talking the refuge here!" It was a heavy threat, one he would certainly follow-through with. Jack stopped, out of breath, his face red.  
  
"I want answers!" he shouted finally. "Real answers! You can't lie to me,"  
  
"I won't," Pulitzer said, not knowing the actuality of that statement. "Look, just sit down and let me explain" he sighed. "Lord, forgive me," he muttered softly.  
  
"Forgive ya for what?" Jack snapped. "What did you do wit me mother? Is that why she died?" he asked boldly.  
  
"No, boy. Forgive me for shunning you for all these years. My own flesh and blood.." his voice trailed off, almost frighteningly, and Jack drew in a breath.  
  
"You're not my father," he stated. "You can't be." His mind raced, he felt dizzy, like his world had collapsed. He had just wanted to come and mess with Pulitzer's head a little, he didn't want to find out all this!  
  
"No, not your father," Pulitzer spoke quietly. "Marrianne was my sister. My only sister,"  
  
One blow after another. "How can dat be?" Jack asked incredulously. "We lived in a goddamn shack my whole life! Mom had to sell flowers on the streets just so we could survive! If you're her brother, why didn't you help us?!"  
  
Pulitzer sat slowly, as if in a trace. His eyes were full to the rim with tears, and when he spoke his voice shook. "When your mother.Marrianne, told me she was leaving us to marry that man." this time, his voice was shaking with anger. "Your father," he finally spat out. "I went..ballistic. Mad, even. We had the most disagreeable argument.I refused to ever see her again. I knew what your father would turn her into," there was a hatred in his voice, one that hardly showed, even in the most upsetting of situations. But this time, everything was out in the open. He could not lie, under exaggerate, he had to tell the truth.  
  
"She came to me, a few weeks after you were born. Begged me to help. Oh she had all the excuses for your father's problems. But I wouldn't relent. Finally.I gave her enough money to buy some clothes, and food, and told her to leave your father. She said she would, but she didn't. She couldn't. She saw something in the worthless bum that nobody else did."  
  
Jack bit his lip, listening. His head was still reeling, but he needed to hear this. He had never really known why his mother had died.only knew what his father had said. Perhaps now Pulitzer could tell him.  
  
"I worried about her.but never did anything. I was too stubborn, too young. I couldn't just let it go, what she had done to me. No, I had to drag it on." a single tear rolled out of his eye and down his face. "When you were about seven, your mother came to me again. You two were starving and ragged and she couldn't find work. I agreed to give her the money.but only if she agreed to leave your father. But really leave him this time, or else I wouldn't give the money to her. I agreed to let you two live with me, and everything seemed like it was going to work out,"  
  
He stood up suddenly, wiping his eyes and staring into the fire. Jack dared not to breathe, scared that maybe Pulitzer would stop speaking.  
  
"When she told your father she was leaving him, he went crazy." Pulitzer's voice was cold now, and worn in. "In a mad rage, he killed her, you see, and took you before anybody had a chance to do anything. I looked.lord how I looked, for years and years, but nothing showed up. Then finally, two years ago, I got wind of a boy named Jack Kelley working as a Newsboy. The man he had been with was name Sullivan. He had been arrested and tried for theft. The boy had no mother. I remembered how Marrianne always wanted to name her baby Kelley..and I thought," he paused. "I had to see. I pretended to go and 'check-up' on the Distribution center you went to, and when I saw you."  
  
Jack stood up, he knew the rest of the story. He felt so empty, so alone. All this time, without a family, a single person to call a relative and all along there was someone. Not just anybody either, but one of the richest men in all of New York!  
  
"You look so much like your father, you know," Pulitzer said loudly to Jack. "You acted like he used to act, when we were young.I couldn't take it. I watched you for days and days until you did something wrong.and when I saw it, I turned you in. I don't know why."  
  
"It's your fault I stole that food in the first place!" Jack yelled accusingly. "It's your fault I was starving! Your fault!"  
  
"No, no, don't say that," Pulitzer sobbed, heavy sobs full of pain. "Please, don't say that,"  
  
Jack headed towards the door. "Where are you going?" Pulitzer asked.  
  
"I've heard enough," Jack said softly, pushing open the big oak door and running down the stairs. He ran and ran, out of building, down the street. Past the Lodging house and the Distribution Center, past everything he knew was familiar. He ran until his legs felt like jelly, his insides were twisted, and his head was about to explode.  
  
He was somewhere near the Brooklyn Bridge. He walked to it, slowly and panting. He walked until he was dead center in it, and he leaned over the side, his eyes filling with tears.  
  
"You lied to me!" He shouted finally. "You lied! You told me it was an accident! You told me it wasn't your fault! How could you DO THIS TO ME!?" he screamed at the water, his voice echoing back at him.  
  
He collapsed and sat with his back to the bridge, sobs that shook his whole body. "You said it wasn't my fault.." he murmured, as he shook with agony, huddled alone on the bridge. Alone, once again. 


	6. The King of New York, and Italy, too

"I'm da King of New York!"  
  
Racetrack finished singing and did a twirl in the street, throwing his hands in the air as an elaborate finish. He shuffled his feet a little while he hummed the tune, not even noticing the stares he was getting from passerby's.  
  
His day was great so far! This truth spell stuff really worked. So far he had gotten two girls to admitting to liking him, three guys he played poker with to admit they were cheating (and a hefty reward for his silence), and a whole lot of money. He had never won so many races in his life! Hey.maybe after the truth spell ran out, Davey could just..do it again. If he made as much money winning races as he had today...  
  
"I'd be the King of New York!" he cried, jumping up on a lamp post and swinging around once before jumping off. He whistled to himself a bit more before a familiar sight caught his glance.  
  
It was the Upper Manhattan Orphanage.  
  
"Do I dare?" Race asked himself out loud. "To go find the hidden source of my existence?" He giggled to himself for speaking like that, and shrugging, headed towards the Orphanage.  
  
He had been left there when he was four. As procedure had it, he couldn't be told who his parents were. That was to be kept a secret. But they had found no foster home for him..and at fourteen he just left. He figured he could make it on his own easy enough. He hadn't been back since.but hey, nobody could lie to him today, and he might as well try to find out who his birth parents were.just for the record. Not that he really cared or anything.  
  
"Mariana!" he cried, entering the Orphanage and spotting the familiar old woman. She had been the one to watch over him while he stayed there, and was probably the one who could tell him about his past.  
  
"Ant'ony?" she asked, squinting. Her Italian accent was as heavy as ever. "Ant'ony! It's you. How have you doing?"  
  
"Wonderful, Mariana, I'se nevah been better," he said. "Say listen, do me a favah, tell me bout me parents?"  
  
"Ah, Ant'ony, you know I cannot.." she said with a shake of her head.  
  
"Oh, but you can. Where am I from?"  
  
"Sardinia, an Italian Island located in the Mediterranean sea, Southwest of Rome." She replied automatically, much like the other people he had fooled with had.  
  
"Really?" he asked with a nod. "That's pretty neat,"  
  
"I shouldn't have said that," Mariana looked worried.  
  
"Ah, don't worry bout it. Nobody'll know. So who were they?" He preceded to the next question.  
  
"Your mother was an Irish maid, your father an Italian duke. They met and fell in love, and as you know, the two countries hate each other. Your father's punishment to their marriage, was to be exiled to the Island. When you were three, your father died of a rare plague, and his family wanted to have you. They felt your mother incompetent to raise you. They wanted to raise you in royalty. She however, wouldn't hear of it and in fear your mother fled to America. She however, already had the illness. On her deathbed, she contacted us, and you came here after she passed."  
  
"Back up, back up!" Race said, excited. "My fathah was a DUKE? A real duke?"  
  
"As real as any." Mariana said. "He was exiled, but never thrown out of Royalty. If he had lived, why, you would have been a prince. In fact, even though he passed, If you were back in Italy, I'm sure you would hold a royal spot in the court."  
  
"Me? A prince?" Race asked dreamily. "Well that proves it! I always knew I was royalty.."  
  
Mariana suddenly looked at him. "How.why.I shouldn't have told you any of that!" she jumped up in panic.  
  
"Don' worry, Mari, prince Race won't tell!" he said, bursting with joy and running from the Orphanage.  
  
"I really am the King of New York!" he cried, running down the street, anxious to tell everyone who would listen to the news.  
  
But the problem was, nobody * would * listen. Every time he would find someone he knew to tell, they'd laugh in his face, or just ignore him.  
  
And finally, discouraged, he kicked his way back to the lodging house. Even with the day's winning's gleefully jingling in his pocket, he felt about as down as could be.  
  
"Heya Kloppman, you know I'm a prince?" he asked dejectedly as he passed the old man.  
  
"Sure ya are, Race. Sure," Kloppman laughed and continued to write in some book.  
  
He stomped upstairs angrily, and sat on his bunk, chewing on the inside of his lower lip.  
  
"Heya Race, hoid you'se been crowned prince," Mush laughed heartily from where he sat, playing poker with a few of the boys.  
  
"Deal me in," Race nodded glumly, choosing to ignore that comment.  
  
"Don't want to, you cheat," Mush said casually and monotonously.  
  
"What?" Race asked, his head snapping up and glaring at Mush.  
  
"I-uh, you, I mean," the boy was blushing now. "I didn't mean that,"  
  
"Yes you did," Race said, his voice level raising.  
  
"Yeah, you'se right," Now he was pale. "Race! I don't know what I'm saying!"  
  
"Yes you do,"  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
Racetrack stood up angrily and pointed a finger accusingly in Mush's direction. "I don't cheat!" he shouted. "Unlike you! You'se jus' lucky I nevah told none of them about the time you won dat five bucks by dealin' tha' fake deck!"  
  
And with that, he stormed out of bunkroom and down the hall. He hated this stupid truth spell mess. He had to fix it, now. If David could do it, he could do it.  
  
He entered the attic, full of determination, and easily located the book. It was laying in the same place they had left it.  
  
He went to open it, but before he had a chance, it flew open by itself and the pages started to turn. His eyes widened, but he waited until the pages were finished to make any sort of movement. He looked down at it, and was surprised to see that is was not opened to the "Truth spell", but instead some sort of long poem. At the top it read, "the Spell of Believing," in an old-English style.  
  
"To make ones friends and enemies believe the truth you speak and act accordingly." He read out loud. Could this be for real? And how did this book..thingy know that's exactly what he needed? Cautiously, he looked around to make sure nobody was in there before launching in and reading what it said.  
  
"From now until the end of day, what I speak and what I say." he read slowly, making sure not to mess up any of the words. When he was done, he looked around. Nothing had happened, he certainly didn't feel any different. Maybe it hadn't worked.  
  
"Racetrack?"  
  
He slam-shut the book and kicked it under an old bed, standing up just in time for Mush to come in the attic. He had a surprised, almost bewildered look on his face.  
  
"That is SO cool you're a prince!"  
  
Race did a double-take. "Say wha'?" he asked, just to make sure his ears weren't deceiving him.  
  
"A Prince! I mean, I never thought any of us would be royalty, least of all you! But now that you are. I kind of feel guilty about stealing from you all the time," he babbled on. "Hey, you hungry? I'll go find you something. Something fit for a king!"  
  
And turning on his heel, the poor, spellbound boy raced back down the stairs, whistling himself as he went to serve Racetrack.  
  
"Ha!" Racetrack cried, jumping a little bit into the air. "I tol' ya! I tol' ya!"  
  
And with his newfound fame, he ran down the stairs, out the door, and down the street.  
  
"Wait! Racetrack, where are you going?" Specs shouted after him.  
  
"It's Prince Racetrack to you, and Little Italy! It's full of Italians, they're bound to love me!"  
  
And with that, he tore down the street, the thought of being treated royally giving him speed.  
  
"Here I come!" he said under his breath, dodging vendors and people on the street. "For a prince!" he called back as he swiped an apple from a vendor. Looking back, he saw the man simply bow down slightly. He didn't shout, get angry, or call the cops.  
  
"I could get used to this," Race said with a smirk. "Oh yes, I could,"  
  
*  
  
Alright! There ya have it. I've had a bunch of requests for Spot to be in it..and believe me, he is. *cackles evil-like * keep reading and you'll find out when! 


	7. Made to Last

Alright..here's the next chapter. Read and Review! Haha Davey never gets enough loving in the other stories I've read.I feel bad for the poor guy. That's what I wrote this part! Lol im okay, promise.. *  
  
As David walked down the empty street, he could already feel something inside of him start to stir. He didn't know what it was about the girl, the nearly abandoned street, the docks, the faint cry of the birds as they made their way overhead. It make him want to jump for joy, but at the same time it made him long for so much that he didn't have he could cry, so scared he felt like he could throw up.  
  
He saw her after a few minutes, and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating in his chest. He stood there, gazing at her, in total awe.  
  
She stood on the roof of an old pier, her long brown hair flowing freely in the wind. Her over shirt, blue and ragged, flew around her, her skirt as well, and her hands were held out at her sides. She was like a vision. So beautiful, so alluring.  
  
This was the part that made him want to cry. She was Spot's girl. Afton Taylor. Not a newsie, but not exactly a rich girl. She was everything anybody ever wanted.but of course, Spot had gotten to her first.  
  
David had first met her a few months before. Les had been out selling with him, when it started to rain. They ran for cover, and somehow got separated. After the rain had stopped, David went to look for him, but found him nowhere. It was getting late then, and Les wasn't anywhere to be found. Worriedly, he ran towards home, when he had stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
There was a girl, a simply gorgeous girl with stunning features holding Les's hand. And she was walking towards him. Les was sobbing, holding his other wrist, and although the girl was obviously soaked from the rain, she didn't look the least bit worried, upset, or phased.  
  
"David?" she asked when she was near him.  
  
"I..uh, I am," he said, taken aback by her beauty, her presence, everything.  
  
"He had a little fall," she said, indicating to Les. The strange thing was, she had never looked away from David. Their eyes were locked, and all he saw were her crystal blue eyes, that seemed to weep as she spoke.  
  
"Oh, right," he finally said. "Thank you..so much. I'll take him home," he took Les, who was wailing about his arm.  
  
"Goodbye," the girl smiled faintly, starting to walk away.  
  
"Wait!" David cried, getting his Gaul back. "What's your name?"  
  
She had smiled again, the same faint, wonderful smile. "Afton," she called. "Look for me in Brooklyn,"  
  
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. And he had gone to look for her, two days later. His excuse, he decided, would be that he was looking for Spot. And if he happened to run into Afton.well, fate couldn't help itself, could it? But he had no idea how close the two would be from each other.  
  
He had searched the city for her, asking people if they knew her, which nobody did. Finally, exhausted he started towards the docks of Brooklyn.  
  
And that's when he saw her. He recognized her immediately. The same, golden brown hair, incredibly perfect features, and weeping eyes. She stood just feet from him, on the edge of one of the docks. She seemed to be waiting for someone.  
  
"Afton?" he asked in an almost hushed tone. She whirled around, her face bright, and almost looked disappointed when she saw it was only David.  
  
"David," she said, smiling her small smile. "What brings you to Brooklyn?"  
  
She spoke softly, but it wasn't because she was shy. It was because she could. Somewhere in her, she knew that no matter if she screamed or spoke barely audibly, he would listen.  
  
"I uh, came to see Spot," David stammered. She was looking right through him again, with those piercing blue eyes. They seemed almost grey now. And they seemed to be crying, although she wasn't.  
  
"He isn't here," she said, looking out into the ocean. "I haven't seen him for hours."  
  
"You know him, then?" David asked, walking slightly closer to her. He was almost afraid to get too close. She looked like she might fly away from him at any minute. Just float away...  
  
"Nobody really knows anybody, deep inside," she said. Then suddenly, she lifted her arms, parallel with her chest. "Do you ever feel like flying?" she asked, closing her eyes.  
  
"Flying?" David asked, nervously. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that. She seemed like she could read his mind.  
  
"Sure," she turned to look at him, putting her arms to her sides. "You know, just letting the wind carry you away, from everything, to a world that can't hurt you,"  
  
David started to say something, but he was interrupted by a familiar yell.  
  
"Davey!" The arrogant Brooklyn leader was striding towards them. "And me Afton," he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek softly. "You two's been getting' to know each other?"  
  
"We've met before." Afton said, moving her head away from him slightly. He didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Tat's great," Spot said. "Now c'mon, Afton, we've gotta get going if we want to make it on time,"  
  
"But Spot, David came to see you." She stated softly.  
  
"Davey can wait, can't ya boy?" Spot slapped his face in a friendly way, took Afton's arm and started towards the city.  
  
"Look for me," Afton said to David as she and Spot walked off.  
  
"I will," David answered, more stunned than hurt. Of course, it made sense. She lived in Brooklyn, and she was absolutely gorgeous, not to mention mysterious. It was no wonder Spot had her.  
  
Months later, and he had only seen her a few times. Each time she was with Spot. He always had her arm around her, like she was some sort of trophy. David laughed bitterly, thinking about it. That's all any girl ever was to Spot. A trophy. 'If she was my girl..' David thought.  
  
David snapped out of thought when he heard her speak. At first, he thought she was talking to him. But then he realized she was looking straight ahead, a pained, almost fearful expression on her face.  
  
"You lied," she said, simply. "You lied to me,"  
  
And with that, she fell. Just like that. She lifted her hands up, leaned back, and without another word she gracefully tumbled off of the roof. David watched in amazement as her hair flew around her face, as she landed, hard, on an old mattress. For a minute she just lay there, motionless and silent, until she stood up, brushing her skirt off.  
  
"You ever feel like flyin', Davey?" she asked him, not looking at him. There was an air of anger in her voice, one he had not heard or thought was possible in her. Without waiting for an answer, she climbed up a few crates and lifted herself onto the roof.  
  
"You know, just letting the wind carry you away," she called to him. She stood back on the roof, on one of the wobbly rafters. This time, however, she was not over the mattress.  
  
"Afton, you'd better get off of that," David said nervously. "You could get hurt,"  
  
"Wouldn't that be the day," Afton laughed bitterly, walking across the board. It wobbled dangerously, and she almost lost her balance.  
  
"Afton, please," David almost begged. It made him nervous, he felt like he was the one walking on the board.  
  
She gave him a curious look, and then shrugged. "If it bothers you that much, David,"  
  
After she had gotten down, she turned to look at him. She definitely wasn't herself. She looked upset, angry, not at all the way she usually did. She looked as if she was even showing emotions.  
  
"What do you--"  
  
"Ah, truth spell," David muttered, cutting her off. "I need to ask you something."  
  
"Ask away," she leaned back against a wall, her arms folded across her chest.  
  
"I uh, well the thing is," he stuttered, feeling more intimidated than he ever had. "What do you see in Spot?" he finally asked. "Why are you with him?"  
  
Afton looked surprised, and hurt. But the truth spell had her. "I saw someone who loved me," she said, staring down at the ground. "Not many guys are willing to say that. I saw someone who would protect me, who would take care of me. I saw someone, whom by being with him would keep everyone else away from me," she looked back at up him. "I don't know why im saying this,"  
  
"Is he everything that you want?" David asked. She started to answer, but he cut her off. He was surprised he felt so much emotion inside him. "Afton, you know you could have anybody. You could leave him and find someone better.anyone,"  
  
Afton bit her lower lip and stepped closer to him. "He doesn't love me," she said softly.  
  
"But you just said--"  
  
"No. Today.something was different. I asked him, whether or not he loved me, and he said no. He turned really red, and started stammering, but every time I'd ask him something, he'd answer opposite of what he usually does. it was like he had to tell the truth. I just can't believe I listened to his lies for so long," she shook her head. "Stupid me,"  
  
David didn't even have time to think of the oddness and strange familiarity of the situation. "But you see, this is good!" he encouraged. "You don't have to be with him anymore. You can be with someone else, someone who will treat you right, and say things that they only mean,"  
  
"And whose that supposed to be, David?" Afton asked, frustrated. "Every guy I've ever met, they're all the same. They all--"  
  
"Me." David said quietly, fixing his gaze on his feet.  
  
"What?" she asked, drawing in a breath.  
  
"It's supposed to be me," he said a little louder. "Because I would treat you right, and I would only say things that I mean. I wouldn't parade you around, or treat you like a trophy."  
  
He kept his head down, but suddenly Afton had taken hold of his hand. He dared to meet her gaze, and was surprised to see she was crying.  
  
"But when the fire is gone, who are you really?" She asked, so quietly, he barely heard.  
  
"This is who I am," he said firmly. "I'm not like them, Afton. I'm drop dead mad about you. I'll do anything,"  
  
She stared at him, long and hard, before pulling away. Tears were streaming down her face freely now. "Why did you come here?" she asked him.  
  
"Because," he said, and with a boldness he didn't know he had inside him, he took a few steps forward, so close he could see right into her eyes. He wiped away a tear softly and leaned closer to her.  
  
"I wanted to see if you were really human," he whispered into her ear.  
  
And she broke down, crying. David was not unsure as to the reason, and he gently held her in his arms, while she sobbed quietly onto his shoulder. She was so close to him, in his arms, he could breathe in her scent, she was so warm.  
  
"You promise you won't hurt me?" she finally asked, pulling barely away from him and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.  
  
"I would never hurt you."  
  
She was much too close now. He could see the remains of tears on her eyelashes, and as she leaned closer to him, her lips so close. He thought he could fly. 


	8. Don't wait for the sun

A frightened boy ran down the streets of Brooklyn, his slingshot in one hand, golden-topped cane in the other. His footsteps pounded up and down the lanes, as he made his way quickly to the Bridge and to Manhattan.  
  
As he stopped to rest and catch his breath, leaning against the wall of a building, he was unaware of one of his Newsies, Tony, walking up to him with an almost scared look on his face.  
  
"Spot?" He asked, making the 'fearless' leader jump about three feet into the air. "What are you--"  
  
"NO!" Spot shouted, clasping his hands over his ears. "If I can't hear you, I don't have to answer truthfully!" he stumbled past Tony, who was beyond confused, and started running yet again to the bridge.  
  
He had to reach Jack, before anybody else came and talked to him, Then he had to find Afton.  
  
Speak of luck. Unless there was something wrong with his eyes as well as his ability to lie that day, Jack was only about 50 feet in front of him. He slowed to a jog, sweat beads pouring down his neck, and reached Jack, running into the unsuspecting boy and almost knocking them both over.  
  
"Jack." he breathed heavily, catching his breath. "Jack, somethin's wrong,"  
  
Jack looked at him, only mildly concerned. "What is it?" he more sighed than asked. Spot noticed his swollen eyes and the way his eyelashes sort of stuck together, the way Afton's did when she cried, but chose to ignore that. His problem was definitely more important then whatever Jack was dealing with.  
  
"I.I," he paused, a realization dawning on him. "It's your fault!" he finally shouted, pointing an accusing finger. "You did this to me, didn't you?"  
  
"Did what?" Jack asked, only slightly interested in what Spot had to say.  
  
"Don't play innocent wit' me!" Spot snapped. "I went to Manhattan, to get me hat back from last week, and when I left.well all the sudden I'm havin' trouble lyin'!" He finished triumphantly.  
  
Much to his surprise, and annoyance, Jack started to laugh. "This isn't funny!" Spot shouted angrily, raising a threatening fist at Jack.  
  
"It kind of is," Jack said honestly, holding up his hands in defense. "Look, the thing is Spot.well, you'se gonna think this crazy..but earlier today, while you were in the Lodging House, I guess.Davey found this old book in the attic.and he kinda, sorta cast a spell."  
  
"A spell." Spot repeated incredulously.  
  
"A Truth Spell," Jack corrected.  
  
Spot shook his head, disbelieving. "How can you cast a spell?" he spat out. "I thought all the 'witchy' stuff was killed in Salem.you know, with them Puritans and such,"  
  
"Yeah, I don't really get it either.but it worked," Jack said. "I mean.I just found out Pulitzer's me uncle,"  
  
Spot's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure dis ain't some sort of insanity spell?"  
  
"What's yer real name," Jack asked, to prove his point.  
  
"Spot is it. Me dad got drunk real bad and kept sayin' how he'd see spots all over the place. When they asked him what to name me, he said the only thing he could think of was Spot, and he said that must have meant God wanted him to call me that." Spot suddenly got really pale. "I can't believe I just tol' you that! It's like I got no will of me own." his thoughts drifted back to Afton. "This is a mess! You gotta help me fix this!"  
  
"What happened to you, anyway?" Jack asked in response.  
  
Spot sighed. "You know that goil I'se been seein'?" he asked. "The real pretty one,"  
  
"Yeah, yeah the one who doesn't have a single flaw on her. She's pretty gorgeous," Jack admitted.  
  
"Yeah, no kiddin'. So for the past couple 'a weeks, I'se been tellin' her I love 'er, you know, hopin' to get some action out of her, she's not really that affectionate, ya know what I mean," he took a deep breath.  
  
"So today, I went to meet 'er after I got back from Manhattan, she was standin' there, like she always does, and god! She was so beautiful! But she looked a little upset, and she tol' me she ran into one of her old boyfriends, who used to treat her like dirt. Then I tol' 'er, 'Well I love you, that's all that matters,' and she asked me, "do you really?' and..well, I couldn't lie! I said no, and told her I just wanted to sleep with her. And I mean, she kept asking me all these things that I always say to 'er.and I couldn't lie!" he shook his head mournfully. "What'd ya think of that, eh?"  
  
Jack folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think you wanna know what I think of that,"  
  
Spot gave him a funny look. "Why not?"  
  
"'Cause I think you're a very manipulative, selfish and immature boy who needs to grow up before you should be even allowed to talk to girls. Honestly, the way you treated her! I'm glad she left ya!"  
  
Spot took a fuming step towards Jack, but he again help up his hands in defense. "Look, I wouldn't be saying none of this to yer face if not for the truth spell. So jus' forget I said it, alrigh'?"  
  
Spot reluctantly nodded. "You gotta help me fix this, Jack," he pleaded. "I mean, even if I don' love 'er, I still wanna be with her,"  
  
Jack sighed again. "There's no way to fix it." He said. "There's a twenty- four hour time limit, then nobody will remember anything.well, except us four."  
  
"Four?"  
  
"Me, you, Race, and David. Supposedly everyone else who've we've talked to just..forgets what we said, I guess,"  
  
Spot let out a frustrated sigh. "So Afton won't remember by tomorrow?" he asked.  
  
"Nope." Jack looked around the bridge. "Hey, look, it's getting' dark. Why dontcha crash in Manhattan for the night, nobody'll ask ya nothin,'"  
  
Spot nodded. "I think I will," he said, and they took off towards Manhattan. Somewhere along the way, he got the nerve to ask, "So wha' happened to you?"  
  
Jack shrugged. "Found out Pulitzah's the reason me mum's dead, he's my uncle..nothin' too bad" he added with a sarcastic undertone.  
  
Spot raised one eyebrow and then shrugged. "At least yer goil didn't run away from ya,"  
  
"I don't have a girl," Jack snapped.  
  
"Ya know, I don't really like ya when you'se act crabby," Spot said bluntly.  
  
"You know, I don't really like you at all," Jack replied nastily.  
  
They stopped walking and stared at each other, Jack looking a little afraid and Spot angry.  
  
"Maybe.maybe we shouldn't talk to each other," Jack finally said.  
  
Spot shrugged. "It's not like I ever want to talk to you'se anyway,"  
  
"You are SO immature!" Jack erupted. "Everything has to be about you, doesn't it?!"  
  
"Yes it does!" Spot replied. "I am Spot Conlon, the most respected and famous newsie in alla New York!"  
  
"That doesn't mean a thing to me! You're the same old Spot I rescued from the Bronx eight years ago!" Jack snapped so angrily that little pieces of spit flew everywhere.  
  
Spot went a strange combination of white and red. "You didn't tell anyone?" he asked in a half-whisper.  
  
"Of course I didn't," Jack said haughtily. "Unlike some people, I can be trusted,"  
  
Spot kept his mouth shut, there wasn't much to say to that. "Thanks for not telling," he finally muttered, keeping his eyes on his feet.  
  
Jack gasped. "What the--" was his only reply, as they reached the LH. People, mostly Italian men, were all over the place. Mostly they were talking, excitedly, but some of them were moving things into the street. There was now an big chair, desk, and a sofa in the middle of the street.  
  
"What is this?" Jack asked, bewildered, as they walked past the men. A few newsies were scattered here and there, and in the middle of all of them, was a short, dark-haired and well-dressed young man Jack didn't recognize.  
  
"RACETRACK?" Spot's mouth dropped open. Jack let out another gasp as the man, holding a golden watch and a cigar spun around to look at them.  
  
"That's Prince Racetrack to you, Spot!" Mush said from Race's right. "Nah, nah, boys, de're all right," Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Well, Jack, I gotta hand it to ya, dis stuff really works. I mean, sure, the truth stuff, it made me realize I was a prince. But thanks to the book-- " he pointed to it, laying shut on the chair, "I'se been castin' spells left and right, and, well look at me now!" he laughed and leaned closer. "Finest fabric you'll find in New York," he said, fingering his pinstripe suit.  
  
Jack looked ready to kill. "You cast more spells and you brought the book out here?" he hissed at Race, grabbing him by the collar. "Do you have any idea-"  
  
"Get your hands off of the Prince!" one of the Italian men shouted, grabbing Jack and tossing him like he weighed no more than a twig. He hit the side of the wall and fell to the ground, moaning.  
  
"Jack?" Race asked, his eyes wide. "Stupid Leo, you don't throw my friends!" the man shrunk away, looking like a kicked dog.  
  
Race ran over to see if Jack was alright. Spot started to follow, but he saw something that made him stop.  
  
There, in the midst of the crazy Italians and newsies, was Afton. But she wasn't alone. David was next to her. They were holding hands, and she was actually.laughing?  
  
Spot quickly walked over to them, wanting an explanation. "Afton?" he asked, dumbfounded.  
  
She turned to him and gave him a very, very cold look. Taking her hand from David, she made a point of taking off the silver bracelet Spot once gave to her. Holding it out to him, she said to the words that no other girl in his life had said to him.  
  
"I think it's pretty clear that we're over."  
  
And, in the middle of the day, Brooklyn's arrogant, fearless, rude and childish leader felt like he had been stabbed in the heart, and he fainted, crumpling into a heap on the ground.  
  
Thing's were or were not looking so good, depending on whose side you were on.  
  
***  
  
And there ya have it. Next chapter up soon, if I get reviews. Otherwise..forget it! J/k so yeah. Sorry I was so mean to spot.I don't know why. Maybe ill be nice to him sometime in the near future..who knows. Ciao! 


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